A New Home
by AmazingGraceless
Summary: Potential Spoilers for IX, fluffier than a Wookiee. Rey finds a new home after the events of the Rise of Skywalker, and with it, a surprise.


**AN: As some of you may know, I haven't written as much lately because I've been developing my Wattpad profile. I had to throw my hat in the ring one last time at least for speculating the end of the Skywalker Saga. Because the leaks are stupid and we have come so far. It's still shocking to me that the ship I was the first to write and popularized may become canon— well, is canon, in my eyes. This is my last ode to that.**

* * *

Rey stepped out of the _Millennium Falcon_. The words of Luke's ghost haunted her thoughts.

"_**A thousand generations live in you now."**_

The old ruins of the Skywalker homestead loomed ahead of her. Skeletons and ash had been swept away by the sands of time. But the structures were still in place. This place would need a bit of care and patience, not easily taken on by just-anyone.

But Rey wasn't just anyone. If there was anything she did best, it was fixing things. She looked back to Chewbacca, where he stood on the landing ramp as Artoo rolled down the ramp, somewhat dejectedly. The loss of Threepio hit him hard. But in one of the crates aboard the _Falcon_ were what remained— including his personality drive.

Hopefully that would be enough to bring him back.

"I'll be a little while," Rey admitted. "Might want to take her to a fuel-dispensary."

Chewbacca gave growls of assent before closing the landing ramp. Rey watched as the _Falcon _flew off into the pink and violet-streaked sky. It reminded Rey of that blue sky her parents had disappeared into fifteen years prior.

But this time would be different. Chewy always came back, and this wasn't exile or abandonment. At least, not for her.

Rey descended the stairs, testing the old clay with her staff before setting foot on them. Layers of sand and dust covered everything. She could see the potential already, however. There was the dining room. Already she had visions of Finn, Rose, and Poe coming over for hot chocolate, perhaps when Finn and Rose's baby had been born.

She could keep the Jedi texts here or there, perhaps set up a workshop with the supplies she'd raid from the old Kenobi home that none of the locals dared trespass against.

But a sadness lingered. She was not heir to this. For how she took the Skywalker name, claimed it in the final battle against her great-grandfather, she was of the blood of their destroyers, not one of them.

The real Skywalkers had all passed and no longer were here.

She forced a smile. She'd get to work— that was what she had always done. Swiping an unwanted tear away, she tried to decide what to work on first— perhaps a place to sleep?

Then she felt it.

Like a bowstring tightening.

A ping in her ear.

The way reality seemed sharper, clearer.

The roaring in her ears, then silence—

But this was not the same as their connection before.

Rey could only hope, pray as her heart started to beat faster that it meant what she thought it did.

It was a wild desperate hope, but one that she believed had to mean— it had to— all the same—

It took every bit of courage she had to turn around. To confirm or deny that last wild hope.

He was standing there, and it took her breath away. And it wasn't the Force— she saw his footprints, much larger than hers, over the stairs.

So many questions filled her mind, the how and why, for she'd seen him fall into that pit—

But they were overtaken by something else. The voice that she remembered from the vision. The promise from before that final fight.

"_**I'll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise."**_

Tears welled up in her eyes, but not for sorrow. He had finally come back! Someone had come back for her!

She threw her staff to the side as she ran, she ran to him, leaping in his arms at long last. They were both crying and smiling as he spun her around in the embrace. They touched foreheads together as her feet found the ground again.

"Ben," she exhaled, saying nothing else. For there was nothing left to say.

"I'm here."

They kissed, a sweet triumph.

Rey gently pulled away, placing a hand to his face. "How did you survive?"

He shrugged. "It's a long story."

"We've got plenty of time."

There was truth to that. They both turned to see the twin suns setting on Tatooine, watching it for a moment.

This would be their new home together, Rey realized. They could build a family, an order. It was everything either of them ever wanted.

"Hold me," Rey ordered, sounding like Leia.

Ben did so.

In the sand nearby, there would be graves joining that of Shmi Skywalker, all of them empty. But they would be markers— of Luke, of Leia, of Anakin, and Han.

In years to come, twins, a boy and girl, would play around those graves, wielding sticks and pretending they were the laser swords their parents promised someday to.

As the sun closed on the Skywalker Saga, there was hope of a happy ending.


End file.
